


Stand And Deliver

by couronnedesfleurs



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dark, Darth Vader Has Issues, Darth Vader's A+ parenting, Gen, Highwayman Vader, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Suitless Darth Vader, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29881809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couronnedesfleurs/pseuds/couronnedesfleurs
Summary: Lurking in the dark waiting to ambush an unsuspecting carriage, it is Vader instead who is taken by surprise when he discovers an unexpected treasure within.Highwayman Vader AU.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Comments: 21
Kudos: 98





	Stand And Deliver

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this whatsoever except that I watched the Horrible Histories highwayman song one too many times. 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> Warning: There is violence, murder, and general highwayman-esque stuff, so proceed with caution.

Ozzel’s body crumpled face down in the dirt, the bullet tearing a hole clean through his chest. The shot rang through the cold windswept night, and Luke clamped his hands over his mouth to stifle his scream.

‘It seems you have outlived your usefulness, Admiral.’

The man re-sheathed his pistol, carelessly kicking the body over with the tip of his boot. Ozzel’s glassy eyes stared unseeingly at the stars.

‘Y-you didn’t have to kill him!’ Luke stuttered, staggering back in horror. His spine met the cold carriage door as a grim reminder that he was cornered.

There was no love lost between him and Ozzel- the man was a boorish sycophant at best and a sadistic bully at worst- but Luke didn’t think he deserved to be murdered in cold blood either.

‘He was becoming a liability.’

‘But he did nothing to you! H-he was co-operating!’

Vader raised an eyebrow, and the scar that bisected it glistened ominously in the moonlight.

‘He was a coward who would’ve tried to cut me down the moment I turned my back on him, and you too.’

‘What… what do you mean?’

Vader toed open Ozzel’s cloak, and Luke’s eyes grew wide. The man had been carrying a pistol, no doubt fully loaded, as well as several freshly sharpened knives.

So much for diplomatic peace talks.

‘Ozzel was not planning to leave the Organa household tonight without shedding blood. A small servant boy like you would have been of no consequence to him. He would’ve murdered you and your master upon arrival, and probably would have tried to take off with the Organa House jewels too. It is a pity; perhaps if I’d caught him on his return from the house, I could now be laying claim to the chalcedony waves instead of his grimy pocket watch. Even in death, he has proven to be vexatious to the last.’

Luke’s blood ran cold at Vader’s callous words. He watched him swipe the watch from Ozzel’s waistcoat, sliding golden rings from his cooling fingers and tossing them into his pockets like spare change.

Somewhere beneath the fog in his brain he knew that he should run, as fast and far as he could. It was still a long way to the Organa household, however, and he was sure he couldn’t outwit Vader on foot.

‘I don’t suppose I should bother asking if _you_ carry anything of value on your person. If he was sending you out in the dark to retrieve a rat like Ozzel, then Organa clearly doesn’t hold much regard for your welfare. I doubt he’d trust you with money or jewels.’

Luke bit down a retort on the tip of his tongue, and restrained himself to shaking his head.

Bail Organa was notoriously kind and generous towards his servants, and Luke had always looked up to him as a father figure, seeing as he had none. Luke took great pride in the fact that Bail trusted him to accompany such important guests to and from the house on business. He was certain that if Bail had ever suspected Ozzel to be playing for both sides, he would never have put Luke in danger. If anything, the man was guilty of naivety rather than neglect.

‘Now…’

Having pawed over Ozzel’s body for more riches and come up emptyhanded, Vader moved onto his new target.

‘-What to do with you?’

Luke stood stoically, backing up further against the coach, ignoring the pain in his shoulder blades and trying to hide his fear. Their horses had long since bolted, and he didn’t fancy trying to mount Vader’s huge white stallion by himself. Maybe he should attempt to make a break for it through the woods after all, distance be damned-

‘I wouldn’t try it, boy. These woods are treacherous, especially in the dark. You’d get lost and be found dead in a ditch by sunrise. That is, if the wolves don’t get to you first.’

His eyes snapped back to Vader, despair closing in around him. Pressing his clammy palms against the coach door to stop himself crumbling, Luke had to remind himself how to breathe. Vader was so close now he could feel his dark cloak brush against his legs that were still somehow holding him upright.

The physical touch was a reminder that this was real, that this was happening, that Vader wasn’t a nightmare he’d manifested after drifting off in the carriage. He would have given anything for the Admiral to roughly shake him awake, offended that Luke had fallen asleep during one of his many onerous speeches. Instead he lay dead at their feet, mouth still open slightly in surprise, as if he’d really thought he stood a chance against Vader.

Luke cursed the man’s stupidity. Because of his arrogance, he had forfeited his own life, and now Luke’s hung in the balance.

Vader towered over him, black cloak billowing in the wind and tricorn- undoubtedly stolen- pulled low over his brow. Dark blonde hair curled around his face, which should have softened him, but only emphasised the danger in his icy blue eyes. He appraised Luke unnervingly, his face a perfect storm, his mouth drawn into a thin line like a knife’s edge. Luke was certain that had he not been flattened against the carriage, Vader would have circled him like prey.

Although Luke had heeded Bail’s warnings about the dangers of the open road, he’d never expected to come face to face with the bogeyman that plagued the local aristocracy and haunted the village children’s dreams. No one dared to utter his name, fearing that doing so would summon the man like an invocation. The rumours whispered that he was a monster who pillaged and murdered his way across the moors mercilessly, lying in wait in the shadows of a forest or a roadside ditch, waiting to strike. He was lethal with a knife, and had never wasted a bullet.

The stories paled in comparison to the real thing. Terrifyingly alive and fresh from the kill, the air around him crackling with dangerous frenetic energy.

Luke sent a silent apology to his master, the man who had taken him in and always treated him with respect and kindness. He had failed the Organas dismally, but he hoped they would be able to retrieve his body from the wood and inter him at the manor, although a pauper’s grave would be all he was fit for. He couldn’t stand the thought of being buried where he stood, eternally cursed to haunt the desolate spot as a sad, pallid ghost. That was the fate they said always befell Vader’s victims.

‘I don’t make a habit out of killing children, though you have seen far too much. You can blame Ozzel for that. If he’d had any sense of honour, he would’ve told you to conceal yourself in the carriage at the first sign of trouble. He knew the risks, and these roads are no place for a child. Instead, he used you as a shield to save his sorry hide-’

‘I’m not a child!’ Luke protested before he could think, ‘I’m sixteen! And I won’t hide from anyone!’

However terrifying it had been to open the coach door at Ozzel’s command and come face to face with the most infamous highwayman in the land, Luke could only imagine the horror he would’ve felt hiding beneath the seat in the dark, listening to Ozzel’s pitiful pleads and the ensuing silence that echoed after the gunshot. Vader would no doubt have combed the coach for valuables, and he would have found Luke regardless. He doubted he would have made it even this far if that had been the case. At least if he died now, he would ascend peacefully beneath the stars rather than in a cramped hiding space.

Vader grinned wolfishly, the sheen of Ozzel’s knife glinting off his teeth.

‘You have spirit, boy. I’ll give you that. Most people would be begging for their lives by now.’

‘No one will make me beg,’ Luke said stoutly, ‘not even you… sir’. He tacked the last part on hastily, though the word seemed ridiculous when addressing a highwayman.

‘Oh? And why ever not?’

Vader was toying with him now, a malicious gleam of amusement sparkling in his eyes. Luke met them with the bravery of a man twice his age and stature.

‘My master told me not to ever beg or lower myself. He says a man’s dignity is his most important asset, and without it, he is nothing. I’m proud to be his messenger.’

Bail had taught him many things that Luke would forever be thankful for, but bravery was among the most notable. As an orphan, he had faced more than his fair share of hardships, and Luke had survived longer than many other children who shared his lot in life. Whatever happened, he would remain loyal, and he would face his fate with his head held high.

Vader smirked, unimpressed.

‘Pretty words indeed, especially coming from a lowly serving brat. Organa always was a verbose fool and I see he instils the same characteristic in his household. That is most unfortunate; for _you.’_

He tilted his head _,_ reminiscent of a python sizing up its prey.

‘Do you _know_ to whom you speak with such reckless abandon, child? _’_

Luke shivered in the wind that had picked up since Vader shot Ozzel, and nodded. Vader’s smirk grew.

‘Then you must be incredibly brave or remarkably foolish. Perhaps both. No matter; I will relieve you of these failings before too long.’

He roved over Luke with calculating eyes, just as a beam of moonlight illuminated the boy for the first time, bathing him in silver against the jet black of the carriage.

Luke wasn’t sure what reaction he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t Vader taking half a step backwards, alarm and shock written all over his face.

Through his fear, Luke couldn’t help but feel curious. He was at a complete loss as to why Vader was staring at him like that. He was hardly an imposing creature, short and skinny, still waiting for his growth spurt at the age of fifteen, and he carried no weapons or valuables.

Except…

Vader’s gaze suddenly fixed on his throat, like a magpie beadily targeting a jewel for its nest. Luke felt the last dregs of courage leave his body.

 _Stupid thoughtless_ **_idiot_ ,** _why didn’t you hide it!_

‘So you _do_ have something of worth after all. It seems you were lying to me, boy.’

Vader stalked into his personal space, his eyes narrowing into snake-like slits.

‘I don’t appreciate liars.’

‘N-no, please, you can’t-!’

Vader yanked Luke’s necklace out from where it had been safely tucked inside his shirt, the glint of the japor in the moonbeam having given him away through the thin material.

Almost as soon as he grasped the snippet in his greedy fingers, he dropped it like it had caught aflame.

‘How…’

He gripped the black cord of the necklace, pulling it taut around his throat, and Luke gasped uncomfortably.

‘ _How_ is this in your possession?’

Luke glared back at him obstinately, unwilling to speak. Vader tightened his grasp and fisted his other glove in Luke’s hair.

‘You _will_ answer me, boy, or you won’t like the consequences. _How_ ,’ he jerked his fist up, pulling Luke’s head back and eliciting a pained cry, ‘ _is this in your possession?’_

It was an inhuman sound, hovering between a hiss and a snarl, and Luke wheezed in pure terror.

‘I-it was my mother’s!’ he choked out, black spots flashing before his eyes.

The air tightened with a suffocating tension. Luke felt like he’d signed his own death warrant.

‘What is your name?’ Vader growled.

‘ _Luke_.’

‘Your _full_ name.’

‘What do you care?!’

A vicious shake.

‘You don’t want to play games with me, child. Your full name, _now.’_

‘I won’t tell you,’ Luke bared his teeth in defiance, which drew an unpleasant sound from Vader that Luke supposed was a laugh.

‘You’re a wild, reckless little thing; I’m surprised Organa keeps such servants, being the spineless fool that he is-’

‘He’s twice the man you are,’ Luke gritted out before he could stop himself.

Vader bore down on him and Luke could feel the outline of his pistol digging against his clavicle.

‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that, little one. You wouldn’t speak of him so proudly if you knew what he’d done-’

‘I’m an Organa in name until I die, and I’m proud of it!’

Luke stared him down insolently, a sole candle flickering in a violent storm. The murder in Vader’s eyes quickly snuffed him into ashes.

‘You are very keen to meet your demise for one so young,’ Vader said softly and oh so dangerously, ‘but you will cease these falsehoods. We both know that poor excuse of a man is as much your father as he is Ozzel’s. Your full real name, _now.’_

‘Luke… Luke Lars.’

‘What did I tell you about _lying,_ boy?!’

Luke flailed in fear, so dramatically that Vader released his throat by an inch.

That was all he needed.

Wrenching himself from the man, he made to dart around the carriage, knowing it was suicidal but fuelled by desperation. He ran what felt like a mile but was probably only a few steps before Vader grabbed him and hauled him back to the carriage, pinning him face first against the door and twisting his arm behind his back.

Luke cried out as Vader wrested his arm up at an unnatural angle, cheek scraping against the splintering wood.

‘Do you know how easy it is to break bones, especially for a puny thing like you?’ Vader murmured into his ear, ‘I could shatter your delicate little arm beyond repair, boy, and I _will_ do so if you don’t tell me the truth. Now, will you stop trying to escape, or are you going to say goodbye to the use of your limbs?’

Luke sobbed, giving up on trying to shake free. The man was too strong, and even if he could somehow slither from his hold, he would never be able to outrun him. It was a futile thought.

‘D-don’t, please, I’ll tell you-!’ he panted, willing to do anything to get his arm out of the man’s painful grip.

‘Excellent. I knew you’d see reason, a smart resourceful boy such as yourself.’

He barely had a second to sigh in relief as his arm was released before Vader restrained him again, this time facing him. His gloved hand dug relentlessly into Luke’s bicep, the other grasping immovably around his chin. He had turned him around almost gently, however, and inexplicably it was this that propelled Luke into hysteria.

‘Now. Your name-’

‘Why do you want to know! Why can’t you just kill me and get it over with or let me go!’ Luke sobbed, desperately trying to twist out of his hold once more. He was dimly aware of tears pouring down his face, and knew that the shock must be wearing off, giving way to fully fledged panic.

‘You will tell me, _**NOW!**_ _’_ Vader roared, having reached the end of his limited patience. He shook the child as if to rattle his bones irreparably into tiny pieces, and Luke finally broke.

‘ _LUKE SKYWALKER_!’

The scream rang through the night, reverberating off the trees and resounding through the earth.

Vader’s grip faltered and the strange look in his eyes reappeared, as if he was seeing a ghost. For a second Luke wondered if the man had actually killed him. He was scared to look down in case his own body laid prone at his feet and his fears of becoming a spectre had become cruelly and frighteningly real-

His arm was released, the throbbing pain now a blessed sign of proof that he was still alive. The hand that had clenched it now carded through his hair almost tenderly, and Luke’s heart jackrabbited in alarm. His eyes were boring into Luke’s, searching all over his face as if he was made of the rarest gold.

‘Your mother’s name?’ he asked, oddly soft, and Luke trembled, unable to resist any longer.

‘P-Padmé,’ he whispered.

Vader inhaled sharply, as if he himself was being choked like he had attempted to throttle Luke earlier. The name hung in the air between them, dancing on the wind like a lost hair ribbon. 

‘You lied about your age. You’re still fifteen. Your birthday is in two weeks.’

Luke goggled at him, utterly bewildered, his chest still heaving with fright.

‘H-how do you know-?’

But Vader didn’t reply, and instead crouched down until he was at eye level with Luke. His other hand moved slowly from his chin to his cheek, stroking over the skin and wiping away fresh tears.

‘Of course,’ he said, more to himself than to Luke, ‘I must have been blind not to see it. You are so much like her…’

He straightened up, releasing him at last, eyes resolute with something Luke couldn’t place.

‘I won’t kill you, young one. I could never kill you.’

Stunned from the strange turn of events, Luke could only blink up at him dumbly.

‘I- t-thank you, sir.’

The man said nothing, still fixing him with that unnerving stare.

‘I… I’ll be on my way, then.’

He had no idea why his name would mean anything to Vader, much less why it would save his life, but he didn’t care to stick around and find out. As quickly as he dared, he turned with the intent of fleeing into the undergrowth and as far from the man as possible-

‘ _No._ I cannot let you go. You must come with me.’

Luke was stopped short by a firm grip on his shoulders, and his heart plummeted.

Vader nodded towards the horse, who whinnied right on cue and stomped her hoof in the dirt impatiently. She was a majestic creature, sleek and svelte, crowned with a silvery mane plaited with blue ribbon. Luke vaguely wondered why Vader had such a recognisable steed, why he didn’t choose a black horse that would surely make for a stealthier getaway, before he realised he was losing his mind. Vader’s equestrian preferences were the least of his worries.

‘You’re right, Artoo. We need to get moving.’

But Luke wouldn’t budge, stubbornly digging his heels into the ground.

‘Get on the horse, Luke.’

Luke shook his head fearfully, wriggling and writhing to get away. The way Vader used his first name so casually sent chills down his spine.

‘If I’m caught with you, I’ll be hanged! I won’t do it!’

‘I thought you’d heard of me?’

‘ _Everyone’s_ heard of you,’ Luke retorted with equal scorn, confusion, and awe.

‘Then you’ll know that I never get caught. The hangman’s noose will never have me, nor you. Now, I will ask once more, and only once. Get on the horse.’

Luke wasn’t convinced, and turned to make one last mad dash for his life. Vader, seeing the fear and desperation in his young face, had been ready for him. In one smooth motion he caught Luke around the waist and swung him over his shoulder.

‘ _No!_ Let me _go!’_ Luke cried, thrashing in his hold.

‘Be _still,_ young one,’ the man said with exasperation and a hint of fondness that made Luke’s head spin even more.

One moment Luke was looking at the ground and the flare of Vader’s cloak, the next he was seated on top of the beautiful mare. It was an alarmingly long way down to the ground, and he swayed, certain he would fall-

Half a second later there was a warm weight behind him, arms snaking around either side of him to hold him steady and take the reins. 

‘Artoo is a faithful horse, but she won’t appreciate you squirming for the whole journey. If I were you, I’d relax. You must sleep if you can. We’ve a long way to go, and we’re unlikely to get there until daybreak.’

Despite his fear, Luke managed to give him a look of loathing mixed with haughty incredulity that reminded Vader painfully of the boy’s mother. He had inherited her expressive face and regal air, despite having his own golden hair and sky-blue eyes.

He was perfect.

‘I doubt I’ll be able to relax, let alone sleep, with a murderer sat right behind me,’ Luke said stiffly, wrapping his arms around himself. 

He noticed the child was shivering, whether from fear or the cold he wasn’t sure. Untying the ribbon of his cloak, he draped it around the boy- his _son’s-_ shoulders. It swamped him completely, cascading off his small frame like a fountain.

‘Why do you not have a cloak, young one? It is the middle of winter.’

There was something stern and fatherly in the tone that had Luke’s hair standing on end. He looked up at the highwayman with wide eyes.

‘I-I did, but Ozzel took it. Said that a servant like me didn’t need finery and that I should learn my place.’

Vader wished he could resurrect the man just to kill him all over again, this time making it an excruciatingly long and agonising death.

‘Were the fool still alive, I would have him bow in the dirt before you. Your place has always been above his.’

Despite his obvious fear and tremors, Luke shot him a disbelieving glare that had Vader’s mouth quirking in genuine amusement. The boy was so spirited, and Vader was glad that the life he’d lived so far hadn’t extinguished his fire. He remembered how the child had dared talk back to him, argued with him, defied him against all odds. He had killed many men for far less, and had been about to kill the boy too, his own _son-_

But he couldn’t change what had happened, though he would in a heartbeat if it had been possible. He regretted threatening the child and scaring him. Most of all he regretted hurting him- he thought with a pang of the tiny pale arm he’d held in his enormous fist, almost unknowingly maiming his own flesh and blood- but it was in the past. He would not apologise, for apologies were only words. Instead he would show the boy what he meant to him through his actions, letting him know how much he was cared for, and he would leave Luke in no doubt of his father’s affection.

It was all over now. He had the boy, and he would never let him go.

‘Well may you look surprised, little one. You have been taught many things that must be rectified. With time, you will learn what you should always have known.’

His explanation didn’t satisfy Luke, who still looked skittish and distrusting like a wild animal.

‘But for now, that is not your concern. You must sleep.’

As Vader expected, Luke did everything he could to spite the man. He sat rigidly for the next few miles, seemingly determined to give Vader the silent treatment seeing as he couldn’t escape. He completely ignored Vader’s persistent yet gentle questions about his upbringing and flinched away whenever the bumping saddle made them jostle against each other. Every time his eyes would flutter closed he stubbornly forced them back open, adamant not to leave himself to Vader’s mercy.

Vader didn’t have to wait long, however, before Luke’s head lolled against his chest, passed out at last from sheer exhaustion and fear and the cold. He stared down at the fair head with a sense of satisfaction, mixed with pride and a protectiveness that had not been stirred in him for a long time. Taking one hand off the reins, he stroked it through Luke’s soft hair. 

Their son was so unbelievably brave. He had remained defiant, even in the face of immeasurable danger and certain death. He possessed a strength of character that Vader rarely saw within even his own men, and Vader felt warmth bloom in his dormant heart.

He shifted one arm to bring the boy closer, cradling him against his collarbone as he would’ve done when Luke was a baby if he hadn’t been robbed. It boiled his blood to think of how much time he had lost with his son- the son he had up until now believed to be dead. The son who had been stolen and hidden from him.

So many had lied to him, and so many would not live to see the next sunrise because of it.

Palpatine would be dealt with. He would want to hear Vader’s report, to confirm that Vader’s special assignment to kill Ozzel had been successful, which Vader would only be too happy to verify before he shot the lying bastard.

With relish that only the storm clouds gathering up above would ever see, he smiled. He couldn’t wait to burn a smoking hole through the old man’s chest, straight through the heart which had claimed to love Vader like a son, and cut him down like a puppet from a gibbet.

But he would have to practise patience and bide his time. He’d never been good at either, but for his son, he would learn. The main goal was to protect Luke and to keep him safe.

He clutched Luke even closer as rain started to fall in heavy droplets and the sleeping boy unconsciously curled into him, the man’s chest a warm safe haven in his unguarded slumber. He couldn't believe his luck. He had been perilously close to losing his son forever, his attention piqued by worthless coins and trinkets when the real treasure had been under his nose all along. He now sat nestled in his lap, safe and miraculously alive, and Vader would do whatever it took to keep him that way. 

Vader lowered his head, his chin resting lightly on the boy’s crown. His voice rumbled low in his chest, at once a promise and a prophecy.

‘I won’t let any harm come to you, Luke. You will be restored to your title and inheritance, and I will slay any man who tries to come between you and your birthright.’

_Between you and me._

All in good time, however.

First, he needed to have words with a certain viceroy.

He squeezed his stirrups into Artoo’s side and the horse sped into the night, the highwayman fiercely holding his precious bounty, until they were nothing more than a pale moon on the murky horizon.

**Author's Note:**

> Word crashed so many times while I was trying to write this which is probably a sign that this was a cursed monstrosity of an idea, but I *needed* highwayman Vader goddammit. 
> 
> Vague backstory is that Vader was all set to marry Lady Padmé, she gets murdered or smth and Palpatine convinces him the aristocracy are behind it. Naturally he becomes a highwayman to terrorise the neighbourhood and enact his revenge, and also so he can wear a dramatic-ass cape. 
> 
> This was surprisingly fun to write and I may carry on this au in the future. 
> 
> Please leave a comment to let me know what you thought and thanks for reading 😊
> 
> Come scream about SW with me on [Tumblr](https://couronnedesfleurs.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/fleurscouronne).


End file.
